


love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket

by galaxtae



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Background Relationships, Children, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fatherhood, Fluff, Internal Conflict, M/M, Minor Boo Seungkwan/Choi Hansol | Vernon, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Single Parent AU, Single Parents, because i don't really know where this is going folks, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxtae/pseuds/galaxtae
Summary: In which Jihoon has the pleasure (or possibly displeasure, he hasn’t completely decided which yet) of meeting Kwon Su Hyang, quite probably the most eccentric child he has ever encountered.It makes a lot of sense though, once he talks to her father, who is charismatic, talented, kind, and every bit as peculiar as his daughter.Or: Jihoon is very conflicted in regards to his feelings towards single father Kwon Soonyoung and his violently adorable daughter (but it kind of makes him want to vomit butterflies).





	1. ki-dult

**Author's Note:**

> (SO just really quickly, i am not korean and i'm trying my best to do research on the honorifics stuff, but please correct me if i'm wrong on anything)
> 
> title from “the bad touch” by the bloodhound gang

The plane, of course, is delayed.

 

It’s also ass o’clock at night.

 

Jihoon shifts his travel pillow and laptop into the crook of his left arm, pressing them close to his chest, so he can scrub at his eyes with the heel of his right hand. “Of fucking course.”

 

Sleep is going to have to wait.

 

The past four days had been torturously monotonous. His company had tossed him into a plane - they didn’t even have the courtesy to book him business class - and demanded that he attend mindless conferences, which Jihoon had endured with grace and temperance (in his opinion) because as a lowly supervisor, he did not have the latitude to say no to the people who can fire him at will. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear the dull drone of the business men’s voices. To make things worse, societal pressures and obligations had coerced him into accepting invitations to socialize with the other employees, with locations ranging from expensive restaurants to sketchy bars. The amount of social interaction he has suffered has definitely far surpassed his usual capacity. All he wants is a long, hot bath and then to be unconscious for a minimum of twelve hours. But right now, the universe seems to enjoy generally inconveniencing him in any way possible.

 

Jihoon groans and lets his hand fall limp from his face. He glances ruefully at the harsh cold structure of the airport chairs and trudges towards an empty one, settling into the uncomfortable metal. It’s going to be a while, so he pulls out his phone and plugs in his headphones and aggressively selects a song while he waits for deliverance.

 

* * *

When Jihoon boards the plane at last and flops clumsily onto the seat, sleep reels him in immediately. He’s out before he even can listen to the flight attendants’ riveting safety presentation and, god, is it a blissful few moments.

 

It’s while Jihoon is in the middle of savoring the glory of black nothingness that he is rudely woken by something akin to the painful feeling of being stepped on; he peels his eyes open and _ah_ , he thinks through the sleepy haze. That makes sense. There is a child. Clambering on top of him. And digging her tiny, red sneaker clad feet into his legs with a surprising amount of force.

 

She stops in her tracks, snapping her head toward Jihoon like a deer in headlights and her hand poised to reach across him and grab the other armrest (which, mind you, is on the opposite side). He blinks dazedly and raises his hands to rub the tiredness out of his eyes and figure out what the hell to do, but his sleep addled mind clearly miscalculates and Jihoon smacks the little girl’s outstretched arms; He watches in horror as she loses her balance and topples backwards.

 

Of course, they’re on a plane so even if she had fallen, the most realistic injuries she would’ve sustained would be a couple bruises but Jihoon isn’t about to risk the possibility of her suffering a head injury and he is definitely not going to risk the possibility of a lawsuit by some pretentious, overprotective parents. With reflexes he never knew he possessed, he grabs her shirt and pulls her forward so that she ends up tumbling bonelessly into his lap.

 

The child, Jihoon observes incredulously, squeals gleefully and makes grabby hands towards him. “Do it again!” she demands, wriggling wildly in his lap. Her hair is gathered into two bouncy pigtails, secured by bright orange hair ties, and an assortment of hair clips with bunnies and flowers also adorns her head (a vague attempt to control her flyaways, he supposes). She’s got a short sleeved shirt pulled over another long sleeved shirt and striped socks peek out from under her denim jeans. There’s even a little rilakkuma embroidered onto her shirt. It’s violently cute.

 

He’s also still very disoriented and this whole situation is just all too much for him to process right now.

 

Jihoon squeezes his eyes close hard and sighs.

 

“Where did you come from?”

 

“A stork! It dropped me at my home ‘nd I went ‘whee!”

 

Ah. Of course. He should’ve known better.

 

Jihoon tries again. “Where are your parents?”

 

“Daddy!” She points towards the aisle.

 

It’s then when he notices the man sprawled on the aisle seat. Her dad appears to be around his age (which makes Jihoon a little bit nauseous because he can’t begin to imagine the burden of taking care of a tiny little human when he can’t even remember to eat sometimes) with a shock of black hair and his arms draped over the armrests in what must be an uncomfortable position, mouth hanging open a little bit as he lets out quiet snores.

 

The child blinks at him owlishly, unperturbed, and expecting some sort of reaction even though  she had just almost given Jihoon an aneurysm mere moments ago.

 

His mind is grabbling at what to say but with no avail, so instead he opts to lift her up as gently as possible and set her down into the middle seat of the row (presumably where she had clambered from).

 

The child’s stare persists, despite now having to crane her neck to keep her eyes trained on his face. It’s seriously off putting and it prompts Jihoon to say something. Anything.

 

Although it goes against the entire image that Jihoon has spent his life forming, he tries to soften the scowl on his face and look less menacing. “What’s your name?”

 

The little girl hesitates for a second, losing all of her bravado from before, and clutches her plushie (when did that materialize out of nowhere?) tightly. “...Kwon Suhyang.”

 

A bit uncertain, Jihoon fidgets with his hands and says in a voice that he hopes is somewhere near friendly, “It’s nice to meet you, Suhyang. How old are you?” She pauses again, and carefully holds up four fingers. “ ‘m going to be five on April twenty six.”

 

Suhyang plays nervously with the stubby arms of her blue lizard sumikko gurashi plush and mumbles out an apology. “Sorry about stepping on you, ahjussi, I was trying to see out the window cause the clouds looked real fluffy.”

 

Ah.

 

A pregnant pause passes. He unsuccessfully tries to decide whether or not he should offer to be clambered on again and instead he desperately hopes for her father to wake up so that he doesn’t have to deal with the terribly obvious fact that he is Not Great with Kids.

 

The silence is interrupted when Suhyang tilts her head, “ahjussi, why is your hair pink? Did you get some paints stuck in it? Got that happen to me before- it took a real long time to wash it out. Hey! You can use my soap if you want.”

 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, unconsciously bringing his fingers up to card through his damaged fringe. He’d dyed it the atrocious color when he’d lost a bet with Seungcheol about how long it would take Hansol and Seungkwan to realize their disgustingly not-platonic feelings for each other. Damn them for not being more emotionally constipated and managing to get together so quickly. What kind of k-drama shit is that, liking someone and having your feelings reciprocated?

 

“No, thank you; it’s pink on purpose. It’s supposed to stay in,” Jihoon tells her patiently. “Thank you for offering your soap, though.”

 

Suhyang’s eyes get impossibly wider and she whispers, “You can get your hair colored _forever_?” as if Jihoon had just revealed the nation’s greatest secret to her. He suppresses the urge to squish her cheeks because the face she’s making is just too adorable.

 

“Well, not forever, but it does stay for a long time.”

 

The little girl gapes at him and squishes her plushie tighter. She seems to mull over this newfound information for a few moments, before a stream of excited words bursts from her mouth. “I’m gonna get so many colors! Maybe I’ll even get pink, like you, ahjussi, cause it makes you look like a fairy! Oh, d’ you have any paper and crayons? I wanna draw it!”

 

Suhyang draws out the “oh” and pronounces “crayons” like “crowns”- a poster child for cuteness. To be honest, it’s so alarmingly adorable that it makes Jihoon want to vomit.

 

It turns out that Jihoon does not, in fact, have any crayons in his very adult and boring laptop bag, but he does have some scrap papers and a few highlighters, which he offers to the little girl who seems very close to vibrating out of her seat with excitement.

 

She immediately grabs the stationary, hands clenched into a tiny fist around the green highlighter, and starts marking up the paper, appearing to be placated for the moment. Jihoon prays that it’ll be longer than that, or that maybe she’ll tire herself out and fall asleep (he really doesn’t have the slightest idea of how to calm a four year old), so he can slide back into the sweet embrace of sleep.

 

Unfortunately, it can’t be more than a few minutes after he slips on his headphones and shuts his eyes that he is prodded by tiny little child fingers, demanding his attention. He blearily indulges the little girl and turns towards her, just as she shoves her new masterpiece into his limp hands.

 

He squints at the paper for a bit and, gradually, the lines and blobs form images.

 

It’s him, with neon pink hair and a body drawn with crude lines. Beside him, is little Suhyang (or what he presumes is her) with green, yellow, pink, and blue lines streaming down from a smiling face to resemble her hair.

 

Jihoon kind of wants to frame this in his room. Instead, he awkwardly says, “this is lovely,” carefully smooths out the paper, and hands it back to her.

 

Suhyang chirps out a bright “thanks,” punctuated by her lisp on the last letter. The bobbles of her hair ties bounce around as she replies. Then, she peers curiously at his phone.

 

Before he can even retract his hand completely, she asks, “ahjussi, do you have any fun games on your phone?”

 

He knows he doesn’t, but he unplugs his headphones and unlocks his phone for her to explore anyways. Watching discretely, Jihoon sees her straighten up upon finding something interesting and tap on the screen happily.

 

Of course she’s opened the selfie app with the godforsaken filters (he knew he should’ve deleted that app before he even came out of the womb) and excitedly informs him that her papa _always_ uses this app and that she really loves the various bunny filters.

 

By the end of twenty minutes, Jihoon has a new collection of over two dozen selfies- most of them blurry, but each of the depicting a Suhyang-shaped blob with a different filter.

 

There’s one clear picture though. Suhyang had insisted that he take one of both of them with his steady, fully developed motor skills; they’ve both got two cute cat ears floating above their heads and a pair of whiskers etched onto their cheeks. Everything is bright and airy and Suhyang looks adorable with her cheek squished against Jihoon’s and a peace sign thrown up carelessly.

 

(Something pinches tight in his chest when he looks at the image)

 

Eventually, she does tire herself out and she curls up into the blue cushion of the airplane chair, conking out almost immediately.

 

Jihoon is immensely relieved that he no longer has to figure out how to Deal With Children, but sleep is beyond him at this point, so he resignedly slides his laptop from the bag and opens up his most recent composition.

* * *

 

Suhyang’s father is still dead to the world when they land in Seoul. Despite Jihoon’s natural inclination to avoid interacting with strangers as much as possible, his need for some shitty beer and a nice, comfortable bed far outweigh his instincts. And access to those two items requires him to get out of his aisle and off of the plane as fast as possible.Thus, he begrudgingly steels himself before reaching over to shake the black haired man awake. Unfortunately, it seems that he’s a heavy sleeper (Jihoon envies him for that) and gives no indication that he will awake within the next century.

 

Sighing, he shoves the man a little harder and - voilà - the latter comes to with a start. “Huh?”

 

Kwon Suhyang’s father blinks wearily for a few seconds. “Suhyang-yah?” Suddenly, he seems to shake off the tiredness from before and muster the energy to flail around, looking for his daughter. Relief floods his face when he notices her curled up in the middle seat, still grasping the lizard plush.

 

Jihoon would love to stay and chat, except he needs to be laying horizontal as soon as possible. Awkwardly, he clears his throat, drawing the attention of other man.

 

“Do you mind, uh, moving?” Jihoon winces at how cold his voice sounds. His brain to mouth filter is lagging a little bit.

 

The other man, however, is unbothered and begins hastily gathering his belongings. Jihoon isn’t really in the mood to chat with anyone - as much fun it was to talk to Suhyang, it definitely sapped the energy out of him and by now, he’s definitely running on his reserve batteries - but the former clearly isn’t on the same page as him.

 

“Ahh, sorry. I completely conked out the minute I dropped onto the chair.”

 

When he speaks, his Gyeonggi accent lilts and curls in a pleasantly, but Jihoon is all too tired to appreciate it.

 

Suhyang’s dad (for lack of a better name) runs a hand through his mussed hair, hoisting a bulging duffle bag on one shoulder and, hilariously juxtaposed, a pink ass, sparkly Hello Kitty backpack on the other.

 

Jihoon manages to grunt out a “don’t worry about it,” although a little belatedly, and tries to suppress his growing impatience.

 

Eventually (after nine painstaking minutes, six of which he had spent gracing the other man’s incessant chatter with half hearted replies), Jihoon’s feet touch the earth and his body shifts into autopilot.

 

After all, he is in familiar territory, back in the concrete jungle of Seoul.

 

It's good, it's familiar, and most of all, it means a bed and a fridge stocked with a copious amount of cheap beer and instant ramen.

 

The sun has yet to ease past the horizon. Rather, bronze pigment bleeds from Seoul’s skyline and into curling rose and lavender, dyeing the clouds a pretty, saccharine hue. The faint light laces everything with a hazy, golden edge. It’s dangerous, Jihoon thinks, as his heart pangs thinking of the beach sunrises he had fervently admired when he was a child. It’s dangerous in that this is the time, the cusp between the witching hours and daylight, that people’s protective cocoons are peeled back and they’re left vulnerable.

 

He gets through customs fairly smoothly and before he knows it, he’s standing outside on the concrete of the airport with the crisp winter air biting at his cheeks. Jihoon pulls his parka around him a little tighter, glaring into the weak morning sunlight and glances at his phone for the time. An unforgiving 7:18 AM taunts him from the screen.

 

Eventually, though Jihoon has little recollection of his own actions, he makes it back to his apartment building and trudges up the stairs to the second floor. The key doesn’t fit into the keyhole the first four times he tries, but the fifth proves to be a success. He toes off his shoes at the door and haphazardly tosses his jacket and laptop case onto the loveseat and leaves his luggage for a-less-sleep-deprived-Jihoon to deal with.

 

In the meantime, he morosely flops onto his couch, which is striped with the sunlight filtering through the blinds, and forgoes a hot shower for a long, _long_ nap.

 

* * *

The Pinwheel is a quaint café that sits snuggled between a used bookstore and an herbal medicine store. It is equal parts hell and heaven, because it’s the only place Jihoon can get his caffeine fix, but as retribution for his finicky tastes, he endures the insufferable company of his friends.

 

The day is still early, however the corporate schedule couldn’t be any less concerned with Jihoon’s terrible sleeping habits and so he finds himself standing in front of the decaled door of The Pinwheel. A sigh escapes his mouth, misting the cold air and he begrudgingly pushes the door open.

 

The light tinkle of the bell sounds, followed by an exuberant “good morning” ringing through the air, too.

 

“Ah, Jihoon-hyung!” Seungkwan greets gleefully from his spot behind the counter. Hansol grins and waves, situated, as always, by the former’s side.

 

“Hey, assholes.”

 

Seungkwan lets out an undignified whine, face pulling into a pout.

 

“You’re not cute,” Jihoon tells him flatly.

 

Seungkwan huffs in exasperation, “Hansol would beg to disagree.” He sends his boyfriend a pointed if-you-don’t-wanna-die-you’d-better-compliment-me look.

 

Before Hansol can open his mouth to spout some cheesy bullshit, Jihoon swiftly pulls out his water bottle and sprays him with a jet of water

 

“What the hell, hyung?” Hansol sputters indignantly. “You can’t just do that.”

 

“Hell yeah, I can. And I’ll do it again if I have to.” Jihoon wields his water bottle in front of himself, poised to ward away any unwanted declarations of affection, if necessary.

 

He inches towards the counter, making sure to keep the nozzle trained on Hansol. “Just give me my caffeine.”

 

“Fuck you, I swear you only ever talk to me when you need coffee.” But Seungkwan nonetheless makes his way towards the coffee machine.

 

Jihoon eyes the chocolate chip cookies and quickly snatches one. No one’s going to miss it anyways. Jeonghan’s probably already baking another batch right now. He ambles towards an empty table and sets his stuff down, leaving his water bottle out in case of any future incidents. Soon enough, Seungkwan saunters over to his table with the drink of the gods. Instead of leaving Jihoon be after he delivers the drink, he plops down into the seat across from him, resting his chin in his palm and crossing his legs daintily.

 

“So, hyung, anything interesting happen lately?”

 

“No.”

 

“You gotta make things happen then! Venture outside of the dark hole that you call home. Explore everything that the world has to offer! You’re youth is slipping away right before your eyes. I can’t, in good conscience, let you do that for yourself.”

 

Jihoon glares at him. “Stop trying to meddle with my life. How can you assume that I’m not happy with what I’m doing right now?”

 

“I’d believe you if you were some wrinkled old man with five dogs and no will to live, but you’re twenty-five and single as hell.”

 

Jihoon sips his coffee, resolutely ignoring Seungkwan. The coffee is good. So good, in fact, that he can almost pretend that Seungkwan isn’t sitting next him, trying to dig into his completely unremarkable life.

 

Seungkwan groans. “Hyung, you’ve become a boring corporate bitch.”

 

“Grade-A, just-about-to-get-a-raise corporate bitch, so yeah, I think I’m pretty happy with that title.”

 

Seungkwan sighs dramatically. “You’re lucky I love you so much, if it were anyone else, I’d have given up on you by now.” He swipes Jihoon’s phone, taking advantage of his focus on the drink in his hands.  

 

To Jihoon’s unending dismay, Seungkwan punches in his password perfectly (he’s going to have to change it again) and begins furiously typing something in.

 

“I swear to god, if you subscribe me to some disgusting, furry text alert thing again, I _will_ end you.”

 

From across the room, Hansol raises his head from his phone in alarm. “A _what_ text alert?? Come again?”

 

Jihoon snorts. “You’re in for a wild ride if you don’t know about your boyfriend’s nasty kinks.” Hansol ‘s face contorts into one of pure distress.

 

Seungkwan reaches over the table and smacks his arm hard. “Hey! No turning this café into a temple of lies. Besides, hyung, even if I were into that weird shit, it’s 2017, you need to be less parochial in your views.” He turns around for emphasis and calls out to Hansol, “Babe, don’t listen to him. He’s just cranky because we’re in a loving relationship and his only company is cheap ramen.”

 

He turns back to Jihoon, and scoffs, “Which - by the way, hyung - can change. Your piteous state of single-ness is not perpetual.”

 

“I’ll have you know that I have the best kind of ramen,” Jihoon informs him, mulishly ignoring the topic at hand. It’s fine though, because Seungkwan’s gone back to snooping around in his phone and Jihoon can finally savor his coffee some more.

 

His joy is short lived though.

 

“Oh, what’s this?” Seungkwan says triumphantly. He turns Jihoon’s phone around in his hand to wave it rudely in Jihoon’s face.

 

“What the hell? How am I supposed to know what you’re referring to if you keep shaking it in my face.”

 

Smugly, Seungkwan slides the phone over to Jihoon. To Jihoon’s chagrin, it’s the goddamn selfie with Suhyang. Feigning ignorance, he innocently says, “What?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, hyung. It’s not a good look on you. Now explain this disgustingly adorable image that I want framed in my apartment.”

 

“There’s nothing to explain,” Jihoon says coolly. “What were you doing on my phone anyways?”

 

“Well, at first I was setting you a calendar notification to get the fuck out of the house and come party with us on Friday - time and location already put in there - but then I wanted to grace you with some tokens of my undying, ageless beauty in the form of some selfies. I found this priceless gem instead.” He’s so fucking smug, Jihoon wants to smack in back to the fourth grade.

 

Jihoon tells him this, to which Seungkwan laughs, “You must be getting softer, hyung.”

 

Thankfully, his phone chimes, a notification popping up. It’s from his colleague, reminding him to be at the office on time for the meeting. Jihoon grins and begins gathering his belongings, chucking the now empty coffee cup into the trash bin. “I gotta go, duty calls. The office is calling for its bitch.”

 

Seungkwan glares at him, but doesn’t make a move to stop him. “This isn’t over, hyung.”

 

Jihoon hums knowingly and makes his way to the door, waving bye to Hansol. “Tell Jeonghan, Jisoo, and Seungcheol that they suck.”

 

Hansol nods. “So...tell them that you love them, right?” Jihoon flips him off and reaches for the door.

 

“Ah, and hyung,” Seungkwan calls from his seat at the table, wearing a shit-eating grin, “Be there or be a fucking loser.”

 

Jihoon throws his head back and lets out a sharp laugh, “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” and steps back out into the noisiness of Seoul’s busy streets.

 

* * *

The next time he sees Suhyang and her dad is so jarring for him that he nearly drops the carton of eggs he’s inspecting. It’s surprising because he’d dismissed the memory of the plane ride as some freak dream of his, in which he actually liked children.

 

It had been a week and a half since he last went grocery shopping and it could probably be longer if Jisoo and Jeonghan hadn’t shown up at his front door today and eyed the state of his apartment with pronounced disgust. Okay, so maybe he has a huge project due soon and he really can’t afford to lose any time, which means cutting out some self-care stuff. But Jeonghan had strolled in, nose upturned, with Jisoo trailing behind him and the two of them had boorishly pushed him out the door (his own apartment! The audacity...) with a grocery list shoved into his hand.

 

He had wandered down the street to the corner store, kicking at pebbles and cans and feeling especially like a pissy teenager.

 

Eventually, he had combed through the aisles and checked things off the list and had just been in the process of choosing a nice carton of eggs when he had spotted them at the end of the aisle.

 

Ah, fuck. Should he leave? Or maybe he should stay and just hope they don’t notice him. Or they’ve probably forgotten him already. After all, he is just a random stranger they met on a random plane.

 

By the time Jihoon’s finished outlining his possible options of escape, Suhyang has already noticed him and is, to his horror, waving vigorously in his direction. Within the next moment, she’s dragged her father by the arm and stopped herself in front of him.

 

“Hi, ahjussi!” She’s bouncing on the soles of her feet, this time adorn with tiny red converse highs. Her hair is down today, but the clips are still secured on her head.

 

“Suhyang-ah, what did I tell about tugging me really hard,” Her father scolds.The tips of his ears are slightly red. She still has a furious grasp on his hand though.

 

Jihoon, in the meantime, awkwardly places the egg carton back onto the shelf and gives a hesitant wave.

 

“I’m Kwon Soonyoung! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He extends his hand to shake it. Jihoon does so. “This is my daughter,” Suhyang grins up at him again. “Who I’m sure has already introduced herself rudely, like the gremlin she is.”

 

“Oh, no, she was nice. I’m Lee Jihoon.”

 

Suhyang turns around, suddenly a bit shy, and lightly tugs on the fabric of Soonyoung’s pants. “What is it, sweetie?”

 

She motions for him mutely, and Soonyoung bends down; she cups her hand around his ear and whispers something. Jihoon watches this exchange, intrigued and slightly concerned for the ice cream that sits, melting, in his cart.

 

Soonyoung laughs a little, eyes gleaming, and pushes her forward lightly. “Go ahead, ask him.”

 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, curious at her uncharacteristic display of timidity. What could she possibly have to ask a stranger? In fact, he’s faintly impressed that she still remembers him. He doesn’t remember being this attentive at four.

 

Still, she peers up at her father, who wears a small, encouraging smile. It’s a charming smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges and lips curled upward softly. One that is exactly mirrored on his daughter.

 

“Mmm, ahjussi, can you send my daddy the nice selfie? I want to have it so I can show my friends that I met a real life fairy.”

 

Oh, Jihoon thinks faintly, but he manages a smooth “of course.”

 

Soonyoung’s smile widens, and he pats her on the head before pulling out his phone to prompt Jihoon to put in his number.

 

Jihoon, the cynic and all, knows that he really shouldn’t be giving out his number to random people on the streets, even if this random person is the charming father of an adorable child who is requesting a very embarrassing selfie of him. But who is he to deny her of what she wants?

 

“All right, go on and thank Jihoon-ssi.” Suhyang chirps out a small “thanks, ahjussi,” accompanied by a wriggle of her fingers, and darts off to clamber back into the shopping cart at the end of the aisle.

 

Soonyoung watches her go. “I’m sorry for the trouble. She’s so demanding.”

 

“It’s really nothing at all.”

 

“Ah, well, definitely more trouble than enough. Thanks again, Jihoon-ssi. I’ve gotta go make sure she doesn’t get herself into any trouble, but maybe I’ll see you around?”

 

Jihoon’s unsure of how to respond to the last cryptic phrase, but he offers what he hopes is a kind smile (nowhere near as pleasant as the other man’s, he’s sure). “Uh, yeah. Maybe.”

 

He doesn’t watch him leave, instead, turning back to the eggs. He wonders how different Soonyoung and Suhyang’s life must be. Do they buy baby carrots and little applesauce containers? Is the spot currently occupied by beer in Jihoon’s fridge stocked with boxes of apple juice with disposable straws instead? Are Suhyang’s drawings pinned up by alphabet magnets to the fridge?

 

Jihoon gives his head a little shake. It’s never good to dwell on these kinds of things. He turns back to the eggs.


	2. wishy washy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is...not edited, not even really proofread but it's also like 2 months overdue so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ here it is! after 3 months, ch 2 (shes 2x longer than the first chapter, hopefully this is some compensation for the long wait).

Jihoon is like ninety percent positive that he can stave out two more days before doing his laundry. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

On the other hand, he’s been wearing the same sweater since he came back from work on Friday (and it’s Sunday now), and he’s almost certain that he’d worn it at _least_ one more time before that instance. He doesn’t really want to go out though, with temperatures being sub-freezing, but the unbearable knowledge of how grimy his sweater must be makes him shudder.

 

Unfortunately, going out means that he has to find a warm and clean(er) alternative to the comfy sweater he has donned. Jihoon groans and pushes himself out of his swivelly office chair, pausing to dust off invisible particles from his jeans.

 

The fact that he stubs his toe on the coffee table on the way to his room is a testament to how his week has been going.

 

Jihoon stares mindlessly at the pile of dirty clothes occupying the corner of his room and then shifts his gaze to his closet, which is haplessly empty. He makes a noise of despair and starts rifling through the pile with the ferocity of a low level hurricane. As expected, he only manages to salvage an atrocious tacky sweater from Christmas, gifted by Jeonghan (of course) with no good intentions. It’s got a plush of the fucking green M&M and her ridiculously long eyelashes plastered to the front of it. It’s truly a whole work of art, abominable flashing lights and all.

 

Jihoon can hear Jeonghan cackling in the distance as he eyes the monstrocity with disdain.

 

Unfortunately, he has no other options, except for his summer clothes, but there’s no way he’s going to freeze his balls off for this. Instead, he begrudgingly tugs the sweater over his head, vowing to never take off his parka and tosses his clothes haphazardly into a laundry bag.

 

The only redeeming factors are that it’s warm and comfortable.

 

He grabs his phone before he leaves, typing out a hasty message, and then pockets it with a sense of satisfying finality.

 

**Me:**

ur a fucking dingus

 

Before Jihoon even finishes locking his apartment door, his phone buzzes, and with a sigh of resignation, he pulls it out again and squints at the banner notification.

 

**that bitch (jeonghan):**

doubtful

 

**Me:**

actually, studies show that there’s about a 13975% chance that u r, in fact, the Worst

 

**that bitch (jeonghan):**

is this about

that time seungkwan broke ur rode ntk mic and we had to run to the music store to replace it with a knockoff before u woke up from ur coma?

 

**Me:**

wait what the fuck

 

**that bitch (jeonghan):**

whoops gotta go

toodles~

 

**Me:**

WHAT THE HELL

this isn’t over, fool

 

Jihoon grinds his teeth together in frustration. He reigns in his anger before he does something stupid (like punch the wall and leave with broken fingers) and aggressively locks his phone.

 

At least they had the decency to replace it with a working one, albeit off brand.

 

He can deal with them another time. For now, Jihoon just needs to focus on being a functional adult in society and doing his goddamn laundry. He lugs the two lofty bags into his arms and cautiously makes his way to the stairwell.

 

* * *

The city air is cold, as expected. Jihoon’s breath curls in the air as he hugs his bags of laundry closer to his body, in a vain attempt to conserve body heat. The walk to the laundromat is only a few blocks down, but it seems longer today. The city is bustling with people, as always, but Jihoon feels strangely detached from the world. It’s a weird feeling that seems terribly juxtaposed with the heated banter that he was just having with Jeonghan minutes ago. It clings to his bones, and the most Jihoon can do is chalk these unwarranted feelings to weariness.

 

Maybe he really is just lonely. The minute this thought crosses his mind, Jihoon gives a sharp laugh and shakes his head to help clear his mind. He sweeps the thoughts into the deep recesses of his mind and instead entertains the idea of strangling Seungkwan and Jeonghan the next time he sees them.

 

By the time Jihoon reaches the laundromat, his arms are embarrassingly sore from carrying his laundry. The bell tinkles as he heaves the door open and relishes in the rush of warm air that greets him.

 

He manages a few more steps before dropping his two bags of laundry onto the ground. Jihoon mindlessly loads his dark clothes into the laundry machine and selects the temperature, before feeding the money into the machine.

 

Jihoon really doesn’t have anywhere else to be, so he settles into one of the neon seats.

 

Checking around cautiously, he breathes a sigh of relief to find that the laundromat is empty apart from him, and he shrugs off his parka, revealing the godawful sweater to the light of day. Although he may have taken off, Jihoon keeps the parka close, just in case any unsuspecting stranger walks in and has to suffer the injury of seeing the atrocity.

 

* * *

Eventually, once the wet clothes had been thrown somewhat haphazardly into the dryer, he moves onto listening to one of his sample tracks when a gush of crisp, cold air rushes into the warmth of the laundromat. The jovial jingle of the bell prompts Jihoon to look up from his phone and he’s met with a familiar face.

 

Soonyoung is wearing an overcoat today, with a pale blue scarf tucked neatly into the collar of the jacket. Clinging to his arm is, once again, Kwon Suhyang. She’s dressed in a similar manner to how she was the past few encounters Jihoon has had with them: bright with clashing colors and patterns, but nonetheless cute.

 

Suhyang dons a blue beanie, topped with cat ears and whiskers stitched carefully onto the front. The rest of her is pretty much swallowed by a poofy winter coat (complete with faux fur on the hood) and her polka-dot clad legs peek out from the bottom of the coat.

 

Jihoon wonders absentmindedly if Soonyoung picks her outfits for her or if he lets her pick them herselves, watching bemused from the sidelines.

 

Suhyang appears to be delighted by the myriad of laundry machines as she drags Soonyoung by the hand to an empty one.

 

They haven’t noticed him yet, and he’s unsure if it would be appropriate to greet them. What kind of freak excitedly rushes up to random people that they had just met twice?

 

Instead, Jihoon shrinks into his chair, torn between wanting to disappear to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that would certainly ensue if they noticed him and the desperate wish that they would notice and approach him.

 

Not even a few minutes later, he’s barreled down by a flash of pink and he dazedly recognizes a Suhyang shaped blob. It seems that this has become a recurring theme - Suhyang throwing her tiny, but strangely sturdy, body onto Jihoon.

 

To prevent their both possible demise, Jihoon grabs onto the fabric of her winter coat tightly, securing her. Despite this, she wriggles with excitement, practically vibrating off of Jihoon’s lap.

 

“Ahjussi! ‘S nice to see you again!” She beams at him.

 

He can’t resist. He just can’t. She’s too cute even against his steel wall of defense. His lips curl upward. “Hiya, kid. How’re you doing?”

 

“I’m good! It’s almost winter break so teacher let us do really fun activities in class. Like- like, we made butterflies with our hands and we also ate really really good food for lunch! Also, Kanhee is letting me play with her DS for this week!”

 

She looks like she’s about to say more, but she’s cut off when her father rushes over. This elicits an enthusiastic “Daddy!” as she clings tighter to Jihoon.

 

Kwon Soonnyoung rushes over, embarrassed smile plastered on his face. "Ah- Lee Jihoon-ssi, is she bothering you again?"

 

He hurriedly lifts Suhyang from Jihoon's lap and hitchers her up into his arms, as to prevent her from latching onto the other man again. "So sorry; I take my eyes off of her for literally a millisecond and she's gone."

 

"No, no. 'S fine. She's not that bad, really." Jihoon cringes as the words leave his mouth, realizing the possible implications (that maybe his daughter is kind of bad, which is completely false) of what he had just said.

 

Soonyoung is unbothered, fortunately, and laughs instead, teeth and all. He glances at the empty seat next to Jihoon. "Do you mind if we join you? I don't really have anywhere to be." He bites his lip. "I mean, if I'm bothering you, I can leave actually. I get it."

 

"Hey! I like your shirt," Suhyang exclaims from Soonyoung's arms.

 

Hell to the fucking no.

 

Goddamn it, he forgot about it. A string of nasty profanity almost leaves his lips, but he reigns in his bad habit.

 

Instead, he opts to be completely. And utterly. Mortified.

 

Thankfully, Soonyoung is raising a quizzical eyebrow at the sweater and laughing loudly.

 

Well.

 

At least he's not horrified or disgusted, which Jihoon tells himself in a desperate attempt to salvage his dignity, which is slipping away rather quickly, like water through his fingers.

 

"I have a good explanation, okay?" He gestures wildly for effect.

 

Soonyoung is nearly bent over in laughter.

 

"No judgment here for stylistic choices," he wheezes in between laughs.

 

"I didn't have any other clean clothes left, okay? And it's like negative five degrees outside and the sweater is warm!"

 

"I think it's cute," Suhyang pipes up.

 

Soonyoung gathers himself a bit, and then nods solemnly. "Very."

 

"Slander," Jihoon says hotly, but without any real bite. "Slander in my own laundromat."

 

"Hey! Who says it's yours?" Soonyoung snipes.

 

"I've been coming here since I got my apartment like three years ago- trust me, I've already staked my claim." Jihoon tells him smugly. "The owner lady already knows me on a first name basis and she gave me a jar of homemade kimchi once."

 

"Wow, sounds like you guys are really tight."

 

Jihoon hums. "She's already tried to set me up with her daughter." He eyes him dramatically. "Watch out, you might be next..No one is spared from her urgent quest to find her daughter a suitable husband."

 

A laugh erupts from the other man. "I'll keep that in mind."

He glances at the empty seat next to Jihoon. "Do you mind if we join you? I don't really have anywhere to be." He bits his lip. "I mean, if we're bothering you, I can leave actually. I get it."

 

"No, uh, you're welcome to sit with me." Soonyoung's smile widens again, eyes turning into endearing crescent moon shapes. Jihoon is alarmed by how charming it is.

 

The other man sinks down into the neon chair next to him, still keeping an iron grip around Suhyang's waist. Her attention seems to have shifted away from their conversation and to the swirling colors of the clothes in the laundry machines.

 

It's cute. (Jihoon is disgusted with himself. When did he get so soft?)

 

Jihoon wonders if he should make awkward small talk (the talk had lulled after the first exchange), but Soonyoung has already fished out his phone is tapping away at it. So, he opts to plug his headphones back in and keep listening to his sample track.

 

Unexpectedly, it's comfortable. They don't talk but the company is welcome. Jihoon thinks it may be easing that niggling feeling that had been plaguing him earlier.

 

Either way, at some point, he nods off, only to be awoken by the unpleasant feeling of having his headphones yanked out from his ears and the clattering of his phone to the ground. He jerks wildly out of his slumber (but with enough presence of mind to steady himself in the chair before he breaks his nose), ready to cut a bitch.

 

Beside him, someone stifles a laugh. Jihoon turns to his right at breakneck speed.

 

Soonyoung is clutching a dozing Suhyang with one hand, the other raised to his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile.

 

Immediately, Jihoon flushes with embarrassment. His phone appears to have slipped from his loose, unconscious grasp, thus unplugging his headphones from his phone and (to his unending dismay) flooding the room with his music.

 

"You okay there?" Soonyoung, out of his infinite geniality, reaches down to pick up his discarded phone. He gracefully hands it back to Jihoon, who can only clumsily grab it and ineffectually jab at the screen to stop the mass of deep bass notes.

 

Eventually, he manages to hit the pause button and smooth down his ruffled hair. He turns back to Soonyoung. "Ah, thanks."

 

Soonyoung gives him a winning smile. "No problem."

 

It's utterly unfair, because Soonyoung looks completely unruffled while Jihoon, on the other hand, is pretty sure that his hair is sticking up and he may or may not have drooled a little bit (curse his bad habit of sleeping with his mouth open). Honestly, with his luck, he probably snored really loudly too.

 

However, Soonyoung seems to be graciously ignoring all of this and instead lightly asks, "What song was that? I really liked it."

 

In response, Jihoon laughs awkwardly. "Actually, it's one of my sample tracks. I produce music in my free time." He taps his fingers on his thigh, suddenly feeling like he's boasting too much.

 

"Woah..." Soonyoung's eyes widen as he drags out the syllables of the word. "That's so cool!" In that instance, the resemblance between Suhyang and Soonyoung is undeniable. Jihoon is a little taken aback.

 

He rubs at his neck, a little bit flustered by the praise. "It's really nothing- I just dabble in stuff sometimes, nothing professional."

 

"It sounds amazing, though!"

 

"Thanks. It means a lot."

 

Soonyoung hesitates for a second, clearly wanting to say something more. "Can you play some of your songs?" He hastily tacks on, "If you don't mind, of course."

 

"Sure, I don't mind." He really doesn't. It's been a while since he's released anything on SoundCloud and an outside, unbiased opinion is always good. He guides the plug of the headphone carefully into his headphone jack, before offering the right earbud to Soonyoung, who is more than delighted to take it from him. The way Soonyoung carefully reaches over Suhyang as to not jostle her from her sleep kind of makes Jihoon's heart clench.

 

Once Soonyoung has his earbud in, Jihoon hits the play button and relishes in the familiar rhythms that flood through the small speakers of the the headphones. His feet and fingers tap involuntarily to the beat and he hums the tune out softly.

 

He's pretty fond of this piece. It makes him think of Busan and scraped knees and biking through the streets as the salt air combs through his hair. A little nostalgic, but he finds that it's good to be nostalgic sometimes. It means that he's had a good life so far.

 

To be honest, It'd been a while since he'd made something that he actually liked past the first few plays. He hopes that he'll finish this one, because it'd be a shame, really.

 

The bridge is where Jihoon feels like needs a lot of tweaking. He rests the back of his head against the laundromat wall and listens closely, picking out the parts that he wants to discard and noting which parts he likes.

 

Soonyoung shifts next to him and Jihoon glances at him, having almost forgotten his presence. The former seems completely immersed in the music, practically vibrating to the rhythm of the song.

 

Jihoon feels content.

 

They sit, pressed next shoulder to shoulder, for the remainder of the song. Suhyang shifts occasionally.

 

As the beats fade out, Soonyoung turns his head, eyes wide and shining. "That was amazing, Jihoon-ssi!"

 

Jihoon waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Just Jihoon is fine."

 

"Whatever you say, Jihoon."

 

He blinks at Soonyoung, and then snorts. "No honorifics? Wow, what if I'm older than you?"

 

"I doubt it."

 

"Aww, I'm flattered. I know I'm the picture of youth."

 

Soonyoung throws his head back in laughter. "June, 1996, you?"

 

"November, 1996, actually. Guess you were right."

 

"As per usual," Soonyoung  says with a smug grin. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it with time."

 

Jihoon starts at the implication of seeing him more in the future. He shouldn't get his hopes up though- the chances are slim. He'd have to be batshit crazy.

 

"You're just lucky," Jihoon tells him.

 

"Maybe so."

 

Before Jihoon can reply, the timer on the dryer beeps, indicating the finish of the cycle. "Ah, I gotta get that."

 

Soonyoung waves him off and Jihoon pushes himself to his feet, grabbing the empty laundry bags on the ground beside him.

 

Unfortunately, by the time he's done with all his laundry, it's already five thirty in the afternoon, and he had promised that he would go out and eat dinner with Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo at six (he'd flaked the other three times, and apparently that's "inexcusable").

 

He makes his way back to the door, bags in tow. Before leaving, he turns around and gives a hesitant wave towards Soonyoung, who seems to be supporting the dead weight of Suhyang across his lap.

 

Soonyoung's lips curl upward as he waves back. "Bye Jihoon! I'll see you around."

 

"Yeah, you too."

 

The door closes with a sense of finality and the sound of the bell becomes muffled by the glass of laundromat.

 

* * *

Jihoon is woken up by the jarring buzzing of his phone vibrating against the hardwood of the nightstand. Blearily, he struggles to open his eyes, and then regrets doing so because the glare of the sun hurts his eyes.

 

Groaning, he buries his face back into his pillow, and then blindly gropes for his phone. The most recent notification on the screen is from Seungkwan, that brat.

 

**boo:**

hey bitch we're on our way

 

**Me:**

never invited you over but that's fine

it's not like you ever respect my decisions anyway

 

**boo:**

yeah whatever hyung can you just not be emo for like 0.3 seconds

we're going clubbing, remember?????

you agreed like a month ago, though we'd forget bitch? unlike u, we don't flake out on plans

 

**Me:**

i was drunk and therefore can not be held accountable for my actions

 

**boo:**

idc!!!!

 

**Me:**

what r we? college students? i think the fuck not

u think i have the health capabilities of just downing 13 shots of vodka and being fine?

 

**boo:**

oh boohoo

we're like a minute away be ready

 

**Me:**

i literally just woke up

 

**boo:**

literally gotta do everything in this house jfc

alright we're coming up

 

**Me:**

that's completely unnecessary

 

**boo:**

too late

 

There's a raucous pounding on his apartment door (those fuckers, absolutely no courtesy whatsoever, he has a doorbell for god's sake). Jihoon swears under his breath and heaves himself off of his warm, comfortable, inviting bed and shuffles towards the front door.

 

He begrudgingly unlocks the door and swings it open, coming face to face with an unimpressed Seungkwan. The younger marches right on in, pulling Hansol in tow.

 

"Alright, hyung, so here's the plan: we're going to get you all dolled up and then meet Seungcheol-hyung, Jisoo-hyung, and Jeonghan-hyung at that new place downtown."

 

Jihoon scrubs at his eyes vigorously. "Do we really have to?"

 

"Hyung, I know you're used to this sad, hermit life, but unfortunately, as your friends, we're responsible for your social well-being. So yes." Seungkwan says thinly. "Listen up, I even brought my urban decay palette."

 

"Uh-huh, whatever you say," Jihoon replies moodily, slowing trudging back to his bedroom to rifle through clothes. Seungkwan clicks his tongue in impatience and shoves him rather roughly through his bedroom door. Jihoon lets out an indignant squawk.

 

"Don't come out until you've put on those black jeans that make your ass look poppin'," Seungkwan calls into the room, before promptly slamming the door shut.

 

Jihoon stares ruefully at the closed door, wondering how he ended up here, before resignedly pulling out the ripped black jeans.

 

It's been a long time since he's actually been on an outing like this. He absently digs through his closet, until he settles on a plain white t-shirt with a worn leather jacket thrown over it. Then, last minute, he reproachfully grabs a choker sitting on his vanity and fastens it around his neck. Seungkwan always makes fun of him for dressing so emo, but Jihoon knows he makes it work. Besides, he’s already conceded to wearing the really, really tight jeans, so Seungkwan can suck his dick.

 

Before he makes to open his bedroom door and go to the living room (where he can hear Seungkwan and Hansol arguing about whether peanut butter is healthy or not), he catches his reflection in the floor length mirror hanging on the wall.

 

He looks young. Or, at least younger. He looks like his college self- less tired and worn by corporate responsibility. (Seungkwan was right. His ass does look good in these jeans. That fucker).

 

Smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles from his shirt, he steps out the room purposefully and strides into the living room, purposefully ignoring Seungkwan's satisfied mug. Hansol, that traitor, also nods in approval.

 

"Happy? All right, now let just get this over with," Jihoon grits out.

 

Seungkwan looks scandalized. "Hyung, did you not hear me? I brought my urban decay palette for you. There's no way we're leaving until we get some of that good shit on your face."

 

"Why can't you just fulfill your need to put make up onto people with Hansol?"

 

"Oh, trust me. He tries. My face hasn't been makeup free in public since four months ago," Hansol remarks drily.

 

"Hey! No tag teaming the prettiest person in the room, okay?" Seungkwan says petulantly. "Besides, don't think I don't know that you like it."

 

Hansol makes a face at his boyfriend.

 

"I caught you feeling yourself the other day I tried that 'everyday grunge' look on you, which, by the way, did look really good on you." Seungkwan waves airily.

 

Hansol blanches and doesn't reply, instead gesturing towards Jihoon.

 

To Jihoon's mild horror, Seungkwan turns to him. "Ah right! My next big work." He pushes a flimsy Jihoon into the chair that he's pulled from the kitchen and drags his enormous makeup pouch next to him.

 

The makeup takes less time than Jihoon's anticipated. And he looks hot. As much as he'd like to lie through his teeth and say that it looked terrible, he can't. Because Seungkwan's damn good at makeup.

 

Seungkwan has opted for an earthier look, with tones of brown framing the corners and underneath his eyes. His eyebrows look really good and his lips are an alarmingly bright shade of red.

 

"Damn, hyung, you're gonna get hella dick tonight," Hansol whistles. "You did a good job, Kwannie."

 

Seungkwan preens. "Didn't I?"

 

"Yeah, it's uh, it's really good," Jihoon manages. Seungkwan hums in agreement and reaches over to muss up Jihoon's hair for good measure.

 

"There. Now let's go get hopelessly inebriated."

 

* * *

The new nightclub, Rocket, sits in the heart of the nightlife district in Seoul. It is, fortunately, not in a too sketchy area and already bustling with people. The line shuffles in fairly quickly though, so in no time at all, Jihoon finds himself back in an environment he was all too familiar with in college.

 

The inside is dimly light (as with all clubs) and the bass is booming through his ears. He keeps getting jostled by people left and right, and it's the general amount of chaos and sweatiness for a club. Jihoon keeps an ironclad grip on Seungkwan's arm as the younger seems to seamlessly navigate through the crowds of dancing people. Eventually, they make there way through the throngs and locate Seungcheol, Jisoo, and Jeonghan in an impressively short amount of time.

 

"Hey, it's nice to finally see you!" Jisoo shouts over the clamor of the place. Jihoon can barely make out what he's saying, but nonetheless, he huffs. "I saw you on Wednesday, you ass!"

 

Jisoo smiles toothily. "I'm just messing with you. You look hella fly though!"

 

Jihoon feels warm. "Thanks, hyung."

 

His friends are good. They deserve better than him, better than someone who's prone to pushing people away and bad at reciprocating feelings.

 

His face must've pinched up or something when he had those sad, depressing thoughts, because Seungcheol shoves a shot into his hand and earnestly gestures to him. "Drink!"

 

He nods his thanks and downs it in one goal. The liquid burns as it travels down the length of his throat, and he relishes in the feeling. It may be a terribly unhealthy coping mechanism, but alcohol does a pretty damn good job at repressing unwanted feelings.

 

Thirty minutes later, and a collective ten more shots down, the group finds themselves in varying degrees of inebriation. Jihoon himself has only had two shots total, including the one that Seungcheol gave him earlier, but it's enough for him to let loose a little. That mixed with the buzzed ambiance of the club pushes him to let go of the majority of his inhibitions. At some point, somehow, somewhere, he has managed to shove his way to the center of the dance floor and is currently dancing clumsily to some mainstream pop song. Slightly buzzed Jihoon's music tastes are a lot less refined than sober Jihoon, but at least he's having fun.

 

For the first time in a long time, Jihoon lets himself be swept away by the people and the chaos. He eventually migrates back to the seating area, which is significantly less crowded. Undeterred by the sudden change of environment, he resolutely sits down in one of the seats and unabashedly orders a sex on the beach.

 

From his seat, he can gets a lovely view of Hansol and Seungkwan grinding on each other, eyes locked together in a manner far that is downright sinful. Jihoon suppresses the urge to vomit. At least this is better than the emotional angst that he had to deal with when the two weren't together yet.

 

The other three seem to have disappeared into the crowd, Jeonghan undoubtedly coyly luring someone in as Jisoo and Seungcheol observe with delighted amusement.

 

Before he gets his drink, his phone starts buzzing. The screen displays an unfamiliar, but he picks up anyways, moving to a quieter area of the club.

 

"Hello?"

 

The voice on the other end is very familiar. "Is this Lee Jihoon?"

 

"Yeah, is it Soonyoung?" Jihoon asks with mildly concealed surprise. It's almost eleven thirty at night. “What’s, um...why are you calling?”

 

"Oh thank god. Yeah, it's me," his voice is flooded with relief and he takes a quick breath before continuing. "I'm so, so, so sorry for interrupting your night and I know this is a crazy thing to ask from someone that you barely know but, is there any way you can come watch Suhyang?"

 

"Right now?"

 

Soonyoung's voice is frantic. "Yeah, I know- I know it's crazy but two of my friends got hurt and they're at the ER right now and my other friends are there with them and I just really, really need to be there right now."

 

"Oh-"

 

"Oh my god, what was I thinking? This is a terrible idea."

 

"Wait, no! I'll- I'll do it," Jihoon says quickly.

 

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Really?"

 

"Yeah," Jihoon breathes out. "I mean, I hope you don't mind that I've had like one shot? I'm not close to being drunk but also I don't know if you want to leave your kid in my hands after knowing this?"

 

"Don't worry about it, being buzzed makes her like a thousand times easier to deal with."

 

Jihoon can't help but let a laugh slip out. His ribs creak in protest but it's a nice feeling, despite the unfortunate circumstances. "Just text me the address of your apartment; I'll be there soon."

 

"Oh my god, thank you, thank you so much." The line clicks dead.

 

The genuine sincerity that saturates Soonyoung's voice leaves Jihoon reeling a bit.

 

* * *

Jihoon is pleasantly surprised to find that the Kwons live in the apartment complex right next to his. It’s a wonder that they had never run into each other before the plane ride.

 

Almost immediately, he is met with the flushed face of Soonyoung, who, since the first time the Jihoon has seen him, seems completely overwhelmed. He's wearing a rumpled button down that's untucked and Jihoon is pretty sure that he's missing a shoe. It doesn't help that Soonyoung has his phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder and is talking tersely on phone with someone.

 

However, when he sees Jihoon standing awkwardly at the door, he murmurs a quick "I'll talk to you later" and gives a desperate look.

 

"I'm so sorry again. You're really the only person that isn't busy right now that Suhyang seems really comfortable with," Soonyoung apologizes again.

 

"It's really no trouble at all," Jihoon tells him. He means it.

 

"All you really have to do is get her ready to bed and asleep, which hopefully shouldn't take long because she was up all day. Just call me if you need anything, and help yourself to whatever you want."

 

Soonyoung looks like there's more he wants to say, but he seems to realize the urgency of the situation again and grimaces. "Thank you so, so much again."

 

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Go ahead and go- I think I'm good now."

 

"Okay, okay, yeah, you're right. I need to go. Call if anything happens!"

 

The door slams shut and Jihoon is left alone in a stranger's apartment.

 

He's just about to take a minute and snoop around, before he's basically barreled down by Suhyang (again). This time, she clings to his leg because he's standing up and (thankfully) can’t reach anywhere else.

 

“Ahjussi, you got a hole in your pants.”

 

“That I do.” Jihoon pats her head and laughs a little.

 

“Do you want me to fix it for you? Daddy keeps some duct tape ‘nd he says that stuff’ll fix anything.”

 

Jihoon crouches down to Suhyang’s level and gives her a opens arms to receive the hug that he knows she's going to give. Suhyuang happily reaches up and throws her arms around his neck. She's tiny and warm and smells like artificial strawberry, no-tear shampoo. “Thanks for the offer, Suhyang-ah. That’s very kind of you. But ahjussi doesn’t need it fixed- I bought these pants with rips in them.”

 

Her nose scrunches up cutely. “Really? But why would you do that?”

 

"It's a style. Don't I look like one of the cool kids on the block?"

 

Suhyang laughs. "Ahjussi, I think you're a little too old to be a cool kid."

 

"No way! I'm the coolest," Jihoon insists, feeling a bit silly but strangely comfortable.

 

She takes this opportunity to jab her chubby finger through the rips. The little devil. "I guess it's pretty cool."

 

Jihoon pinches her cheeks and straightens up again. "You know it, kid," he tells her cheekily, smiling at her. "Now, I think it's time for bed. Ready to go?"

 

Suhyang nods and Jihoon waits for her to get up. But instead of standing up, she plops down on the ground and looks up at him expectantly.

 

"What?" Jihoon is endlessly confused.

 

"Up-py." She makes grabby hands at him.

 

He bites back a smile and breezily informs her, "You're four already, a bit too old be be carried, don'tcha think?"

 

"Nuh-uh," she pouts.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Nuh-uh.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Nuh-huh.”

 

"Fine, if you insist." Jihoon rolls his eyes, feigning resignation.

 

The bones in his body creak as he reaches down to pick her up, and he lets out an exaggerated groan as he stands back up. "Gosh, you're gonna break my old-man bones."

 

"That's not possible, ahjussi! You're not even that old," she tells him.

 

"Whatever you say, Suhyang-ah."

 

Suhyang's exuberant laugh drowns out the creak of the floorboards, and Jihoon adjusts her so that he's supporting her with his hip. Slowly, and carefully as to avoid stepping on the toys scattered on the floor of the apartment and breaking his neck, he navigates the unfamiliar apartment to what he assumes to be Suhyang's room.

 

The front of the door is decorated with a myriad of drawings, ranging from colorful scribbles to painted stick figures. In the center of the door, there is a little plaque hung up by a nail and some frame wire. On it, in neat script, the characters of Suhyang's name are etched out. It's not perfect - on closer inspection, there are a lot of hesitant strokes - and Jihoon pictures Soonyoung carefully guiding Suhyang's small hand in the correct stroke order. The border of the plaque is adorn with a string of fairy lights, the battery secured a bit precariously to the side.

 

A fond feeling rises up in Jihoon as he imagines Soonyoung diligently working on attaching the fairy lights to the border and trying to duct tape the battery to the side.

 

He opens the door before he can dwell on the thought for too long, and softly steps into Suhyang's room. The inside is decorated with just as much care as the door. In the corner of the room sits one of those large, 60 inch teddy bears. Its head lolls to the side, supported by a bookshelf. The corner also has substantial pile of other small plushies - tofus, totoros, and sumikko gurashi toys.

 

On the other side, there's a simple twin bed, with the covers neatly made and pillows piled up high.

 

There's a variety of other things that fill the room (like an adorably small desk and a drawer, as well as another cubby filled with toys), but it's getting really late and Jihoon doesn't want to be responsible for a grumpy four year old the next morning.  So he sets her down as gently as he can, and she bounds out of his arms, heading towards the drawer.

 

"Which pajamas should I wear?" Suhyang asks as she intently digs through the bottom drawer.

 

"What are the options?" Jihoon crouches down and motions for her to show him.

 

Suhyang twists around, a pajama shirt clutched in each of her chubby hands. She thrusts them towards Jihoon and watches him evaluate the choices.

 

Jihoon lets out a low whistle. "I like the Line friends one," he answers.

 

Suhyang puffs her chest out proudly. "I knew it." She turns back around and stuffs the other pair of Hello Kitty pajamas back into the depths of the drawer. "You passed my test!"

 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow in bemusement for a moment. "Thank goodness."

 

"Yep." Suhyang nods her head. She pats his fringe, clearly pleased, and then laughs when Jihoon playfully pinches her nose.

 

It takes about three minutes to get her changed into her pajamas, and then Jihoon lets her lead him to the bathroom.

 

"I've already taken a bath today, so I don't have to do it now," she informs him happily. Her small hands push a step stool up against the sink cabinets, and she looks up at him imploringly. "Can you help me put toothpaste on my toothbrush, please?"

 

She hops onto the stool and adds, "I can't reach," as if to explain and convince him.

 

"You're the boss," Jihoon says, reaching over to hand her the toothbrush sitting in a pororo cup.

 

While she brushes her teeth ("Gotta brush for three minutes, ahjussi," she says around a mouthful of bubbly toothpaste), Jihoon fishes his phone out of his back pocket, not at all surprised to find a mass of texts in their group chat.

 

**boo:**

hey h as anyone seen jihOonhyung

theres this freak on a leash in here, thougjtn hed be interested in seeing it ;)

 

**joshua:**

nah haven’t seen him since we dispersed

altho maybe its cause he’s fucking short

 

**cheol:**

bye jisoo ur going to be fuckjgn murdered in ur sleep tonight for saying that

 

**boo:**

god where is this bitch

hes missing some funny shit

 

**joshua:**

maybe he got abducted

i believe

 

**boo:**

why tho

like why him??? and not me ahve you seen me???

 

**cheol:**

yea i guess but theres not muxh to see tbh

 

**boo:**

asshole

 

**boo:**

uodate: its been ten minutes and another blowjob shot, still no luck at finding jihoon hyung

 

**vernon:**

ohmygod what if he actually died in a ditch

can i have his daw xontroller if he did

that shits expensive

**boo:**

can u control ur raging music production equipment boner for liek one second

HES GONE I S2g

**vernon:**

ywah i called him five times n was forced to listen to his edgy voicemail greeting

**joshua:**

no luck :(

**boo:**

@JIHOON HYUNG I SWEAR JF YOU DINT ANSWER US IM GOING TO CALL THE POLICE AND THEN SKIN U ALIVE

**cheol:**

hey maybe if we just spam him he’ll answer

**vernon:**

good idea

jihoon hyung

hyung

hyung

hyubg 

hyung

**joshua:**

jihoon

hoonie

jihoon

**cheol:**

jihoon

**vernon:**

hyung

**joshua:**

jihoon

jihoon

jihppn 

jihoon

**boo:**

gdi hyung just answer so i don’t have to suffer anymore

Jihoon scoffs. They're all dickheads. A voice in his head tells him that he made the active choice to associate himself with them, ,but he scowls and quickly banishes the though, typing out a hasty message to the group chat.

**Me:**

awwww were you guys worried for me?

don’t fret, all is well

had to leave bc of some unexpected circumstances, ill see u guys later

don’t do anything too dumb

**  
  
**

He swipes out of the messaging app and locks his phone to check on Suhyang, who is just finishing up flossing. Jihoon morosely marvels at how a four year old has better dental hygiene than he does; it's been god knows how long since he last flossed.

"Ready for bed?"

Suhyang hums and hops from the stool. " 'm ready!" She pauses, and then wriggles a little. "Can you read me a book please?"

Jihoon balks a little at first, but then nods. "Sure. You go ahead and pick a book, and I'll be there in a second, okay?"

Suhyang nods once and gives a small salute, before skittering off to her room.

He turns to survey the sink area, pleasantly surprised to find everything put neatly back in their place, save the toothbrush and cup, which is placed close to the edge of the sink. Jihoon slides it back to its original place, gives one last sweep, and flicks the light off.

Suhyang had chosen was a prettily illustrated book about a young girl that lived in the woods. She had begun nodding off around the second page and was pretty much sound asleep by page five.

Jihoon quietly slips off the bed to put the book back on the shelf. Then, carefully, with every muscle in his body tense, he tiptoed back over to the bed to tuck the comforter in around her, breath catching as Suhyang shifted.

An exhale. He finally breathes after he gently closes the door, releasing the knob ever so slowly.

Everything is well.

It's strange, how easily he seems to slip into this parental character and how comfortable it is for him.

All of a sudden, a wave of tiredness washes over Jihoon and his mouth is dry and he's struggling to keep his eyes open. His brief time out at the club is probably catching up to him.

Jihoon trudges towards the living room again, but stops by the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The kitchen is quaint too, with a small stove and oven. A refrigerator sits at the end of the counter, and it's adorn with even more of Suhyang's drawings. There are also a few pictures pinned by alphabet magnets, most of them featuring the little girl.

Jihoon knows he's intruding, but he can't help it. He's drawn into the pictures, drawn into Suhyang and her father. He painfully tears his gaze from the pictures, wanting to look more - to learn more - but he's well aware of social protocol.

Resolutely, he turns and makes for the living room, determined to not to turn back and pry.

Unfortunately, his plan falls short when he notices the array of framed pictures on the drawer in the living room and hung up on the walls. He's tired, goddamn it, so he let's himself have this. Jihoon doesn't have it in him to suppress his curiosity twice.

Again, the majority of the pictures are of Suhyang, or at least include her in it. There's an endearing picture of the girl, at a far younger age, toting a large box filled with strawberries. She has a ridiculously large pair of sunglasses perched on her nose and her grin stretches from ear to ear.

The frame right next to it is of Soonyoung and Suhyang. In it, Suhyang is riding on his shoulders and they both share an identical smile (eyes squinted in in mirth, lips curled upward to reveal a toothy smile). This one looks more recent; Suhyang seems a little older.

Somewhere further down the line is a framed image of a large group of boys, also smiling cheekily towards the camera. They have their arms thrown jovially around each other, and Soonyoung stands somewhere near the middle with a peace sign thrown up carelessly in the air. There's an air of intimacy and long-held friendship in the picture.

The last picture that really catches his eye sits on the coffee table next to the couch. It's there by itself, with no other pictures around it.

It's different.

Where the other pictures are light and filled with overt joy, this one is quiet. Much more muted.

From the frame, a fresh faced Soonyoung stares tenderly down at a bundle in his arms. The smile he dons is far, far softer. He holds Suhyang gingerly, as if he were afraid to break her, and she- well, she's crying. Face red and blotchy, with fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

It's a little too much to bear. Jihoon feels like he's crossed a line this time.

He heaves out a sigh and throws himself carelessly onto the couch. The clock reads 12:30 am.

There’s a strange feeling.

He's tired though, so he doesn't dwell on it. It's never yielded good things anyways. Instead, he chases sleep on the unfamiliar couch of a strange apartment.

**  
  
**

There aren't any pictures of a mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a sad line to end on (i didn't mean for it to be like that!!)  
> this chapter was originally going to have one last, lighter scene but i have no idea when i'll actually be able to finish writing that one, so i think i'll just lump it together with the next chapter.
> 
> honestly im so so so so so so so sorry for neglecting this for 3 months, it really wasn't my intention and i don't have any legit excuses. i pretty much got stumped for a while (as i didn't actually have a plan for where this was going) and exams happened and everything /sigh/
> 
> anyways! i hope you enjoyed this and pls anticipate more (even tho i'm terrible at writing regularly)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kwonsoonyoungi) (come say hi and scream about soonhoon!)


	3. zephyr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring feels a little closer, and Jihoon learns a little bit about Soonyoung. (chapter 2 was cut off before, now fixed - for reals this time, please check it out)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET SO NO ONE TOLD ME THAT CHAPTER 2 LITERALLY GOT CUT OFF ao3 really did me dirty like that...
> 
> so uh, ch2 was missing like 1k words AND ENDS ON THE MOST RANDOM NOTE that was NOT intentional, ao3 fucked up somehow and i never checked to make sure it was okay??? so yeah, please please read the rest of that before u read ch3 (it's now fixed!!!), otherwise it makes no sense whatsoever. anyways, enjoy!

This is the second day in a row in which Jihoon's beauty sleep has been rudely interrupted. Except, this time, it isn't a bossy Seungkwan wheedling at his apartment door, it's the sound of clamor and voices ringing out from the kitchen.

 

For a second, Jihoon is both alarmed and disoriented. He blinks blearily, trying to get a grasp on his surroundings. Where the hell is he? He's almost 99.5% positive that he doesn't own any Hello Kitty blankets, so he's not entirely sure why there's one draped over his body.

 

Fuck.

 

Jihoon's head clears a bit and he can finally make out the sounds coming from the kitchen.

 

Ah, right.

 

He's at Soonyoung's apartment.

 

Out of his peripheral vision, he sees his phone lying face down on the coffee table. Sluggishly, he reaches for it and wilts a little inside when he sees that it's merely the tender hour of 8 am.

 

He sits up with a heavy groan.

 

The voices resounding through the hallway pause for a second, and small footsteps come pattering his way.

 

"Ahjussi! Good morning!" She pounces on to him.

 

"Morning, Suhyang-ah." Jihoon reaches up to ruffle her hair

 

She beams at him, and offers him a bite of the egg pancake clutched in her hand.

 

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll kindly decline."

 

She pouts. "Is it because I bit it already? Here, you can have a part that I haven't touched yet."

 

Jihoon is grossly endeared, so he opts to take the portion that she holds out and nibbles at it. Truthfully, the pancake is actually really good and, as indicated by the insistent rumblings of his stomach, he is hungry. But he is also preoccupied by the fact that he may have very well over-stayed his welcome at an acquaintance's (at best!) house.

 

Before he can wallow in the anguish of deciding his next course of action, Soonyoung steps out from the kitchen, tastefully adorning a yellow Rilakkuma. He smiles exuberantly when he sees that Jihoon is sitting up.

 

"How'd you sleep last night? I hope the couch wasn't too uncomfortable."

 

Jihoon shakes his head. "No, no, I slept really well. Didn't wake up a single time." He pauses for a second, and then decides to bulldoze on. "You could've woken me up and sent me home - I feel like I'm intruding."

 

Soonyoung pulls an exaggerated, aghast face. "Of course not! You did me a huge favor last night, the least I could do was offer you shelter for a night." He laughs lightly. "Besides, you're very welcome here."

 

Jihoon hopes that his delighted and flustered reaction isn't too obvious.

 

"Ah...really, it was nothing. Suhyang is so easy to take care of."

 

The little girl, still situated on him, grins, chest puffing out proudly. "You hear that, daddy? I told you, I was on my best behavior."

 

Soonyoung scoffs jokingly. "You? You're a little rascal even on your best behavior."

 

Suhyang is indignant. "Nuh-uh! Take that back!"

 

"Nope!"

 

"Take it back!"

 

"You'll never make me!"

 

Suhyang sticks out her tongue, and Soonyoung imitates her, pulling the same ridiculous face.

 

Suhyang whips around at a break neck speed, startling Jihoon, who had been observing the interaction in silent bemusement. "Ahjussi! Tell him! I really, really was on my best behavior."

 

"Nuh-uh, nuh-uh. Using your cuteness as a power against people is strictly prohibited under this roof," Soonyoung tells her with dramatic seriousness. He strides across the living room and lifts her up by the arm pits. "That's just unfair."

 

Suhyang rolls her eyes. "You're just jealous because- because, you're not as cute as me."

 

"Maybe so..."

 

She nods confidently in response. "Not maybe; you're definitely jealous."

 

"The disrespect...and for your own dad..."

 

"Don't worry, daddy, I love you even though you're not as cute as me."

 

"How generous of you!"

 

Suhyang giggles and reaches out to pat Soonyoung's cheek.

 

"All right, all right, now you have to go finish eating your breakfast. And I mean all of it." Soonyoung sets her down on the ground gently. She gives him a small salute and scampers off towards the kitchen again.

 

As her small figure retreats, Soonyoung calls, "There better not be any vegetables hidden in your pockets afterwards."

 

Suhyang gives an begrudging hum of affirmation from the kitchen.

 

"I'm going to have to go check later anyways," Soonyoung says breezily to Jihoon. He laughs to himself a bit. "She's very impish."

 

Jihoon bites back a full-fledged grin and, instead, lets a tiny smile slip. "She's funny."

 

"Can't argue with that."

 

Jihoon laughs and absentmindedly pats his bedhead down a little. "Well, I should probably get going."

 

"Have some breakfast before you go- I insist!"

 

A part of his mind knows that he probably shouldn't, for the sake of preserving his own feelings and upholding social etiquette. The snide voice in the back of his brain tells him to not get attached to the father-daughter pair. After all, they're barely acquaintances and if Jihoon gets his hopes up, they could be dashed very, very easily. And then all he would be left with is shards of disillusionment.

 

It's so much easier to just not take the leap than risk disappointment. So much easier to stick to the safe side of the road, to ignore the branch in the path, to advert even the slightest possibility of a bad outcome.

 

People learn. If touching the sharp object draws blood, we don't touch it again. That's an incorrect statement. Jihoon amends it. Only fools and raving lunatics will go back to prick his finger again, and again.

 

Jihoon knows the possible outcome of allotting false hope to a potential relationship, be it platonic or romantic, he knows it as a drunkard knows his alcohol.

 

It'd be so easy.

 

One word.

 

Just say "no."

 

"I'd love to."

 

The upward curve of Soonyoung's lips sends Jihoon's heart tumbling.

 

 

* * *

 

Jihoon bemusedly watches Soonyoung, who is entirely distracted by his daughter. Suhyang has managed to spill her rice all over herself and also seems to be trying to carve a smiley face into a carrot. She seems rather less distressed than her father about the grains of rice covering her.

 

Meanwhile, Jihoon helps himself to portion of eggs.

 

"Just- Jihoon-ah, I'm just going to go help Suhyang into some clean clothes and get the rice out of her hair, please, feel free to eat whatever you'd like." Soonyoung heaves a surprisingly pliant Suhyang into his arms, wrinkling his nose when she uses her grubby hands to grab at his hair.

 

He playfully slaps her hands away. "Also, could you watch the kettle and make sure it doesn't boil over?"

 

Jihoon hums in acknowledgement and waves his hands at them, making a small shooing movement.

 

"Thanks," Soonyoung calls over his shoulder.

 

The food is really good and Jihoon tries to savor it. It's been a while since he's had actual, homemade food, considering he has the cooking skills of a lamppost.

 

A few minutes later, Soonyoung returns to the kitchen. "Everything good?" Suhyang is considerably cleaner than before. She seems to be eyeing the bowl of kimchi impishly. He grabs her hands before she can recreate the mess from before.

 

"Yep. Your cooking is amazing, by the way."

 

"Thanks." The corner of Soonyoung's eyes crinkle a bit and his hands slacken a bit at the compliment. Suhyang makes a desperate grab for a piece of kimchi.

 

"It's really nothing, though. I'm glad that you like it," Soonyoung continues as he sets Suhyang on the ground and pushes the vegetable dishes farther from the edge of the table, so that she can't reach them. "If you hadn't been available to come over, I don't know what I would've done."

 

"What happened last night that was so urgent?"

 

Soonyoung's face scrunches up cutely and he lets out a strangled groan.

 

"Ah- wait, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Sorry, the question was probably intrusive and nosy."

 

"No, no, no, that's not it. It's just- a funny story. Embarrassing, to be honest, but not for me."

 

Soonyoung pulls a chair up to the dining table and picks up his chopsticks. "One of my friends - his name is Mingyu - had downed this vile concoction of vegetables and various condiments as a dare, given himself food poisoning, and stubbed his toe on their recliner as he rushed to the bathroom to yarf."

 

Jihoon cracks a smile, eyebrows raised comically.

 

"Don't ask what was in the smoothie," Soonyoung tells him solemnly, "You're probably better off not knowing."

 

"I suppose I'll have to heed your warning then."

 

"You chose wisely," Soonyoung laughs. "Anyways, the result was one broken arm and several cuts from shattered glass on Mingyu's part, ‘cause when he stubbed his toe, he also tripped and fell causing the death of a much beloved coffee table. But between you and me, I'm pretty sure Mingyu was crying more for the table than his injuries."

 

The image is funny enough to draw a full-hearted laugh from Jihoon.

 

"It was really late at night and I'm the only one in my friend group that owns a car, so I had to drive him to the hospital." A small smile plays on Soonyoung's face. "God, my friends are all idiots. To think I was so worried." He shakes his head fondly.

 

"Ahh...the wonders of friendship," Jihoon says. As ridiculous as Soonyoung's story is, Jihoon can undeniably think of equally nonsensical stories about his friends.

 

"Yeah, really." Soonyoung shoves a clump of rice into his mouth, in a similar fashion to his daughter. "But, Mingyu's fine now. Should be up and about in no time at all."

 

"That's good."

 

"Ah! I totally owe you a drink for last night," Soonyoung suggests cheerfully.

 

"You really don't need to! I don't mind if we don't. "S really nothing."

 

"Well, I do mind. It's settled then!"

 

Before Jihoon can continue refusing, his phone vibrates in his pocket, startling him for a second, before he reaches into his back pocket to fish it out.

 

His home screen is alight with a couple hundred text notifications, mostly from Seungkwan, Hansol, Seungcheol, Jisoo, and Jeonghan. For the most part, it's a jumbled mass of all caps and a lot of drunk texts, with some colorful language sprinkled in. One of them reads: "THIS BETTER BE A GODDAMN AMAZING LAY IF UR ABANDONING US LIKE THIS"

 

Jihoon feels the tips of his ears flush. His friends are so crude. If Seungkwan knew what he actually ditched them for, he'd probably never see the light of day again.

 

A lot of the texts eventually evolve into genuinely concerned texts, which is understandable because Jihoon hasn't said a word to them since late last night. For all they knew, he could be dead in a ditch.

 

The clock in the kitchen reads 9:42 am, as well. Jihoon clears his throat awkwardly. "Ah, well, I should probably leave now. I've probably overstayed my welcome, and my friends are, uh, worried about me," he finishes lamely.

 

"Of course, of course. Go if you need to!" Soonyoung gestures towards the door understandingly.

 

Jihoon nods his thanks and carefully sets his chopsticks onto his bowl and scoots his chair back. He's about to walk to the front door to slip his shoes on, but before he manages to step outside the vicinity of the kitchen, Suhyang grabs onto his calves stubbornly.

 

Jihoon blanches.

 

"Ahjussi, please don't go!" Suhyang clutches at the fabric of his jeans. She scrabbles a bit, appearing to attempt to climb up Jihoon's pant leg.

 

Jihoon looks at Soonyoung despairingly, who has rushed from his seat to try to dissuade Suhyang from clawing up Jihoon's jeans. "Suhyang-ah, let go! That's rude!"

 

Suhyang pouts petulantly up at Jihoon, eyes impossibly wide and pleading. "Pleaaase." She drags out the middle syllable in a nauseatingly cute whine.

 

Jihoon feels his defenses crumbling.

 

"Ahh...ahjussi has to go," He tells her weakly.

 

"But you like it here, don't you?" Suhyang tries imploringly. "You can stay and play Mario Kart with me- you- you can even be Toad if you want."

 

At this point, Soonyoung has resorted to using brute physical strength to pull a mulish Soonyoung from Jihoon's leg, but she seems to have an iron grip. "Suhyang-yah! C'mon!"

 

The little girl wails ruefully as Soonyoung manages to tug her away from Jihoon. Her father lifts her up and clutches her tightly to his chest, as to restrain her from attacking again.

 

Jihoon discreetly mouths a "thank you" to Soonyoung before stumbling to his shoes.

 

As he ties the laces to his converse, he hears Soonyoung telling her that "ahjussi can come over some other time if you want," in an attempt to comfort the babbling child.

 

The idea that they want him in their life sends a warm rush through Jihoon.

 

Before Jihoon can open the door, Soonyoung calls out, "Wait!"

 

The other man sets Suhyang down, but not without a stern reminder to "behave yourself," and runs to the kitchen, only to reappear a few minutes later with a filled take-out container in his hands. He hurries to Jihoon and Suhyang trailing a few steps behind him.

 

The container is shoved rather forcefully into Jihoon's hands. "Here. Take it. It's some homemade daboki."

 

Jihoon blinks. "Wow, um, I really shouldn't."

 

Soonyoung makes a dismissive noise. "It's nothing, really. Just take it." He gives him a smile that makes Jihoon feel all warm and weird, like ice cream set out in the sun. "To be honest, I made way too much for the two of us to eat, and I really don't want it to go bad, so you'd really be doing me a favor."

 

Jihoon fingers the lid of the container and says hesitantly, "If you insist...”

 

"I really do." Soonyoung nods emphatically. Suhyang seems to see this as a perfect moment to attack Jihoon again, but her father has just enough presence of mind to snatch her up from the ground.

 

"Well, thank you, again. For everything."

 

"The gratitude is all mine," Soonyoung tells him warmly.

 

Before Jihoon turns to leave completely, he decides to take a leap of faith. "Also...if you ever need help with Suhyang, I'd be more than happy to." His heart jumps to his throat as the words leave his mouth.

 

Joy spreads throughout Soonyoung's features, megawatt smile adorning his face. "That means a lot, thank you."

 

"Of course." Jihoon nods. He clears his throat and glances out the door. "Well, I'll be off then."

 

Soonyoung and Suhyang both wave as he leaves the apartment, and Jihoon can't seem to suppress the bubbly feeling rising in his chest. His cheeks are rosy even before he steps out into the crisp winter weather.

  


* * *

The following Thursday finds Jihoon at a place gaudily called "Sweet Stars Friends Daycare." The building is ornately decorated to look very welcoming to children, with lots of places for them to gambol.

 

Soonyoung had called earlier that day - with an edge of urgency in his voice - asking if Jihoon could pick Suhyang up from preschool and watch her for a while before he could get home.

 

Jihoon had agreed immediately. Conveniently, the rest of his afternoon had been meeting free as well, so he wouldn't be missed if he left work a little earlier than usual. Her preschool wasn't actually that far away from his office; in fact, it was on his way home.

 

He stands outside the double doors of the daycare, hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. What the hell is the protocol for this kind of stuff anyways? Is he just supposed to walk in and take her?

 

Unfortunately, as he toils over what to do, he makes eye contact with what he presumes to be a teacher and she stares at him weirdly, looking a little alarmed.

 

It's then that he realizes how suspicious he must look, brooding moodily in front of the doors of a preschool. He scrubs an exasperatedly hand across his eyes and straightens up, before shouldering open the door and stepping into the building.

 

The teacher eyes him warily and tentatively asks, "how can I help you?"

 

"I'm, uh, I," Jihoon stammers. He curses himself mentally and tries to channel Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's energy. "I'm here to pick up Kwon Suhyang." It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement and the teacher's face kind of looks like she wants to ask him if he's sure that's what he's here for. You and me both, he thinks miserably.

 

"Okay, sir, what's your name?"

 

"Lee Jihoon." Jihoon's mentally sweating bullets. What the fuck, there's no way he can just walk away with someone's child.

 

"Ah!" The teacher brightens considerably. "Lee Jihoon-ssi, yes, Suhyang's dad called in earlier telling us that you would be picking his daughter up. Sorry about the confusion!"

 

A breath of relief escapes Jihoon. Thank god Soonyoung had the foresight to call in beforehand. Though he supposes it's probably standard to do so if you're having someone else pick up your kid. It's this grace and ease that Soonyoung handles these responsibilities that Jihoon can't help and admire. He thinks about himself, only a few months younger than the other man, and thinks about how incompetent he is at even just taking of himself. Of just simple tasks. Jihoon feels like a child strapped in wobbly stilts and dressed in some too-large fancy suit. He's one misstep away from falling off the facade, one tremble away from toppling over and drowning in the shoes and clothes that are far too big for him to fill.

 

And yet.

 

Soonyoung, who has a child to take care of and a job to work and a household to maintain, seems steady, optimistic, and only ever graceful.

 

Jihoon gives a small laugh. His mother would want him to take notes and learn from him. He clears his head with a sharp shake and follows the teacher into one of the various rooms. It only takes a few milliseconds for him to spot Suhyang. She has a little ladybug headband pushing her bangs back, and the antennae bob up and down as she prances around excitedly.

 

The teacher calls her name, and almost immediately, she's bounded over to Jihoon and beaming up at him. "Ahjussi, what're you doin' here?"

 

Jihoon crouches down to be level with her. "I'm here to pick you up. Your dad's busy right now, so you'll be staying with ahjussi for the afternoon."

 

Somehow, the smile on Suhyang's face only manages to grow wider. She does a little excited dance and then reaches up for Jihoon's hand. He hesitantly grabs it and is immediately tugged over to the cubbies on the opposite wall.

 

"I gotta get my stuff before I leave," Suhyang informs him as she reaches into her cubby to carefully pack everything into a small backpack. "Daddy says I gotta make sure I have everythin' all put nice in my bag."

 

Jihoon nods. "That's a good thing to do."

 

Everything goes smoothly for about five minutes. It's when Jihoon opens the car door when he realizes that maybe, just maybe, children need booster seats. He instructs Suhyang to stay put for one second so he can search up whether the fuck or not five year old children need booster seats. He's not proud that he has to Google it, but how the hell would he know.

 

He glances down at Suhyang, who is busy harassing every dandelion in sight in the parking lot.

 

Well. You gotta do what you gotta do.

 

Three minutes later, Jihoon is buckling himself into the driver's seat, and lets out a breath. He eyes the rear view mirror, where Suhyang has been comically placed in the middle seat of the back and the two seat belts of the adjacent seats have been messily buckled across her lap.

 

"You comfortable?" Jihoon calls over his shoulder. Suhyang grins at him through the mirror and raises two thumbs up.

 

This whole seating situation is kind of stress inducing, but Jihoon figures that there's no time like the present, and if he keeps sitting here with the car keys clutched in his hands, Soonyoung will be off from work before they get out of the parking lot. He sucks in a deep breath of air and jams the keys into the ignition, twisting it aggressively before he can regret it.

 

The way back home takes about six minutes longer than it should, but Jihoon is very careful (after all, he's got precious cargo on board) and Suhyang is good company anyways. She good-naturedly requests the radio to be turned on and bellows along with the hit girl group songs. Every now and then, when Jihoon looks at the rear view mirror, he sees her doing the choreography to the songs, surprisingly accurate and surprisingly coordinated for a five year-old that has a penchant for tripping over thin air (or so Soonyoung claims).

 

Once she's liberated from the complicated seat belt mechanism, she's quick to run towards the elevator in the parking garage. She's practically vibrating with excitement, so much so that  when she goes to press the up button for the elevator, she slams both the buttons. This she sheepishly tells Jihoon once he's collected his belongings and made his way over to her.

 

"You little hooligan," Jihoon says with no real bite, ruffling her hair. She shrugs her shoulders dramatically, as if to say "what can you do?".

 

The enthusiasm in which kids have when they explore a new place is awe inspiring. Jihoon looks at his apartment and sees a mediocre place with good enough rent. Suhyang sees it and is practically busting her ass to get around to exploring every nook and cranny of the complex. Her eyes are wide and sparkling as she points at an orange tree growing from a pot in front of one of his neighbors’ doors and exclaims that she’s never forget about this little tree. Jihoon had to lead her away before the little rascal almost tried to scamper up the tiny shrub. She’s slightly indignant that her plans have been foiled but it takes no longer than 17 seconds for her to be distracted by the doormat of another apartment.

 

By the time Jihoon has let himself into his apartment, Suhyang has already shot past him and started a new expedition to familiarize herself with everything crammed into his home. She lets out an excited screech when she finds Jihoon's stash of banana milk.

 

"Ahjussi, can I have one?" She implores cutely. Who is Jihoon to say no?

 

"Of course," he says, swiftly grabbing one from the counter for her.

 

Truth be told, Jihoon's apartment isn't very kid friendly. There's not much to do aside from throw on the TV to some kids show and sit next to Suhyang as she chatters animatedly about some character or other.

 

At some point in time, she wanders around the apartment while Jihoon checks his emails.

 

"Ahjussi!"

 

The delighted yell draws Jihoon's attention immediately, and he rushes over to see what's going on.

 

Ah.

 

It seems that Suhyang had discovered his recording room.

 

Her eyes are wide with awe as she drinks in the sight- hundreds of buttons and knobs on various soundboards and a good number of speakers. The various blinking lights create a starry effect and, although the room is small, it feels a little magical. At least that's how Jihoon has always seen it.

 

It's always been a hobby of his- producing, singing, making music. Once, long ago, a bright eyed Jihoon had dreams to become some hotshot producer, but those visions had crumbled away long ago. It was a nice fantasy, Jihoon thinks bitterly, but one that was never destined to be fulfilled. Maybe in some other life, in some other universe.

 

Not that Jihoon hates his nine to five corporate job, despite Seungkwan's protests about him shamelessly promoting capitalism, he's apathetic about it at best. Simply a necessity of life, not satisfactory or dis-satisfactory, just work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

 

Jihoon actually hasn't touched his recording equipment in a while. Been in kind of a slump, if you will. But seeing Suhyang lose her mind over the equipment makes him itch to create something, if only to entertain the little girl.

 

"You wanna try it out?" Jihoon asks her.

 

"Can I really?" Suhyang looks stunned at the prospect.

 

" 'Course," Jihoon says gruffly. "As long as you're careful."

 

Suhyang bobs her head up and down so quickly that her hair flails out around her head. "I promise I'll be extra careful!"

 

Jihoon makes his way to his swivelly chair and takes a seat, and almost a second later, Suhyang has clambered up onto his lap. He flicks a few switches to get the systems up and running, and does a few tests to make sure everything is still in working order, before offering the mic to Suhyang who is still trying to take in all the equipment.

 

"Wow," she whispers into the mic. "Can I say anything I want?"

 

Jihoon nods in response.

 

To his amusement, she starts singing some sort of children's song that sounds vaguely familiar. She stumbles over some of the lyrics, but she's clearly able to hold the tune. Once she's done, she does a little wriggle and informs Jihoon that she's done with her masterpiece.

 

He finalizes the recording and hits play, and watches Suhyang hiccup with excitement when she hears her voice fill in through the speakers. "Wow," she repeats. "It's so high qua- quality." Jihoon laughs a little because she'd pronounced "quality" like "qualeety," and he gently corrects her.

 

Suhyang cutely scrunches up her nose and repeats after him, slowly. "Qua-li-ty."

 

"You got it!" Jihoon says, throwing up a hand for a celebratory high five, which she enthusiastically partakes in.

 

"Wanna try anything else?" he asks.

 

Suhyang peers up at him. "Ahjussi, can you make somethin' cool?"

 

What's he gonna do? Say "no?"

 

Jihoon starts with a basic beat, letting it wash over him and building a melody in his head. He feels a little out balance, like a skater trying to execute a quad perfectly after having taken an extended hiatus. But it's like what they say- you never forget how to ride a bike.

 

The end result is a pretty basic instrumental line with a crunchy bass line and an upbeat keyboard melody. Suhyang is endessy intrigued, and stares at him the whole time as he generates the music. She looks at him like he's the Usain Bolt of music producing, and he feels a twinge of pride in his chest.

 

"Ahjussi this is the coolest thing I've ever seen," Suhyang proclaims solemnly. "Nothing will ever be this cool," she says with so much certainty that she's got Jihoon convinced for a second.

 

He ruffles her hair gently, "Thanks for your kind words, Suhyang-ah, but I'm sure you'll find cooler things in the future."

 

She shakes her head vigorously. "Nuh uh, I don't think so." She's still for a second, before she whips her head around to look up at Jihoon. "D'ya think I could do this as good as ahjussi when I'm older?"

 

"You're very smart, I'm sure you could be even better than me," Jihoon tells her truthfully, so sure and so confident.

 

"Wow," she breathes out again. "What're people that do this called?"

 

"They're called music producers, it's a pretty cool job."

 

"Music producers," Suhyang repeats slowly, reverently, as if the existence of this career were a gift to this universe. "I wanna do that when I'm grown up."

 

Jihoon's lips curve upward, and he remembers when he felt the same way. But, he's sure Suhyang can end up on a different path than he did. He's positive. At five years old, Suhyang is already much better a person than he is, after twenty five odd years.

 

The looped beat is interrupted by the doorbell ringing, and Jihoon duly notes that it's seven already, and that Soonyoung's probably already here to pick his daughter up.

 

Suhyang practically slides over the floors of Jihoon's apartment to reach his front door, with Jihoon himself trailing behind her. Sure enough, the door opens to a beaming Soonyoung holding up two takeout bags of fried chicken.

  


* * *

Dinner is an energetic affair, as meals always seem to be with the Kwons. Suhyang can't seem to sit still, ever, and she's always up to some scheme. The chattering never seems to stop and by the time they're finished eating, Suhyang has seemed to have depleted her previously endless energy. She's completely knocked out and sleeping on Jihoon's couch, snuggled up to one of the throw pillows that Jihoon bought to feel like a functioning and competent adult.

 

"Hey, I want to thank you again," Soonyoung says to Jihoon, after they've cleaned up and have settled with some tea at the dining table.

 

Jihoon shakes his head, "It's really no trouble at all," he repeats, an echo of what he told Soonyoung after the night he'd taken care of Suhyang.

 

"It really does mean a lot to me," Soonyoung says with an uncharacteristic amount of seriousness. "If I'm being honest, I really can't afford to hire a babysitter or a nanny," he continues, with an inkling of shame tinting his words. It's nothing to be ashamed about, Jihoon thinks, but he doesn't want to interrupt and he's not entirely sure he can convince Soonyoung to see his perspective.

 

"And I'm- I'm working three jobs right now so it's really hard to get home by the time the daycare closes."

 

Jihoon feels helpless. This is all new, unfamiliar territory to him, the insecurity and the exposed doubts. His relationship with Soonyoung is still somewhere in the murky waters between awkward acquaintanceship and hesitant friends. But the candor is not unwelcome; Jihoon is more than willing to listen.

 

"My friends are great and all - Suhyang absolutely adores them all - but my problems shouldn't have to be their burden. I can't keep demanding so much from them," Soonyoung says with a guilty grimace, running a tired hand through his hair.

 

"I'm sure they don't see it like that," Jihoon interrupts abruptly. "I'm sure they want to do whatever they can to help you, never a burden. At least, that's how I see it."

 

Soonyoung seems surprised by Jihoon's words, features going a little slack. In hindsight, Jihoon thinks that that dramatic proclamation probably was unwarranted and, frankly, a little forthright and embarrassing. But he's said it already and it's the truth.

 

"I'm sure you would do the same thing for them if they were in the same situation as you," Jihoon adds.

 

Soonyoung nods, looking a bit admonished, "You're right, you're right. I know this, but it's hard not to feel that way sometimes."

 

Jihoon understands. He understands so wholly.

 

The other man looks over towards the couch where Suhyang is snoozing away, gaze softening. "I just want her to have the entire universe, but I'm not even sure I can give her a star."

 

The room is silent for a few moments, the soberness seeming to hang over the two like a down blanket. However, Soonyoung seems to stir out of his reverie with the sudden realization that he must've crossed a boundary.

 

"I"m so, so sorry, I didn't mean to lay that all on you," he apologizes profusely, waving his hands wildly in front of his chest in a gesture of mortification. "God," he laughs, but it's sharp and bitter, "you must think I'm so ungrateful, always complaining about such small things. There are so many people that have it much worse, and I'm complaining about being a little tired."

 

"Suffering isn't a competition, Soonyoung."

 

Soonyoung pause in his movements to meet Jihoon's steady gaze. "Thank you," he says quietly.

 

Jihoon simply hums in affirmation. He's all too familiar with the all consuming feelings that Soonyoung has expressed.

 

_Suffering isn't a competition._

 

It's a small thing that people need to be reminded of sometimes.

 

"Well," Soonyung stands, stretching languidly, "I should probably get going." He glances over at Suhyang again. "That little sucker needs to get home."

 

By the time he's collected his belongings, as well as hiked Suhyang's bright yellow flower backpack onto his shoulder, it's 9:43 already. Soonyoung crouches down to gently lift up Suhyang, shifting her gingerly in his arms as to not wake her up. He holds her like she's the best thing in the world- the most fragile star, and Jihoon is so incredibly fond.

 

Jihoon opens the door for Soonyoung, who quietly steps over the threshold of the apartment. "Thank you again," he says to Jihoon in a low voice.

 

"Anytime." Jihoon meets Soonyoung's eyes. He really means it.

 

"Not just for, uh, looking after Suhyang. But for talking to me, too."

 

"Anytime," Jihoon repeats, sincerity flooding his words.

 

"I might just take you up on that offer," Soonyoung says with a small smile. "Good night, Jihoon-ah," he breathes out, just barely loud enough for Jihoon to hear. His eyes are tired, but there's mirth dancing in them, a lightness that wasn't there before.

 

" 'Night, Soonyoung."

 

The lights flicker as Jihoon watches Soonyoung's retreating figure, and a cool breeze sweeps through the window of the apartment complex. The stars are extra bright tonight- Jihoon can see them through the window in his bedroom as he gets into bed, even through the smog of Seoul's concrete jungle.

 

It feels like the de novo dawn of spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen im the world's slowest writer and i pretty much just get boughts of enthusiasm to write, but i promise i haven't given up on this! if i ever do, i will definitely let you guys know, so if it takes me ten billion years to update, it just cause i'm inconsistent as hell.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kwonsoonyoungi) come say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> this is completely self-indulgent and i do not have the slightest idea of where this is going so we're in the same boat buddy. i don't even have the next chapter outlined; i've barely thought of a cohesive plot but i guess i'm going to run with it.  
> i can, however, say with confidence that i do really want to finish this fic so hopefully this will actually start shaping up to something.  
> also, it is my first time posting anything, so i am always, always open to constructive feedback! and come talk to me on my new [twitter](https://twitter.com/kwonsoonyoungi)
> 
> edit: sorry folks, this wasn't an actual update- just had to edit some stuff because there were hella formatting errors. don't worry though! i'm very close to updating chapter 2


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